


careful strategy

by sylvermyth



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13134939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvermyth/pseuds/sylvermyth
Summary: Laurent’s lips tilted into something resembling a smile, his chin raising haughtily.  “Are you cold, Exalted?  I would think a great beast like you would be unbothered by such a thing.”





	careful strategy

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from @cyberphuck on tumblr: *KICKS DOWN DOOR* CAPTIVE PRINCE PROMPT, LAURENT LOSES HORRIBLY IN A SNOWBALL FIGHT
> 
> This is my first fic in this fandom! I hope you enjoy it!

Damen had never really thought to ask—he’d assumed Laurent wore his clothes as armor, even now—if Laurent had more reason than that to cover himself so completely, from the high collar of his jacket to tight-laced sleeves to his wrists, to his impeccable boots.  To protect his fair skin from the kiss of the sun, perhaps, but Damen knew well enough than to think Laurent vain…

It hadn’t really occurred to him that Laurent was a person who was easily chilled.

He didn’t complain about it—Laurent rarely _complained_ , not like that--and Damen didn’t question the way Laurent burrowed closer to him under the blankets of their shared bed, but now—

He couldn’t quite hide his smile, watching Laurent’s own expression sour at the draft snapping through the open door.  Blue eyes cut to the side, an old habit of assessing their surroundings, and then Laurent drew the furs closer around his shoulders and stepped out into the cold.  He was impossible to miss—that had been true from the moment Damen had first laid eyes on him—the severe black of the furs a stark contrast to the pale sky, and the blanket of fresh snow that covered the ground.  It was still coming down, big fat flakes that caught in their hair and eyelashes and clung to their cloaks as he and Laurent made their way to the stables.

Damen eyed the sky.  “We could wait, you know.  For the snow to let up.”

When he looked over, Laurent’s mouth had thinned.  “If we wait much longer, the roads will become impassible.”

Truthfully, Damen didn’t consider that much of a problem.  Their errand wasn’t one of any urgency, and he’d much rather spend the day inside, with the comforting crackle of fires, snowed in with Laurent, and the weather preventing any outside demands from reaching them.

Joining Akielos and Vere, as important a task as it was, was not an easy one.  It didn’t matter that they were kings; there were still remnant political factions that opposed them, and if not those, then other obstacles, the small details that Laurent had a better mind for than Damen, and it almost made him wish for simpler times.

Of a stolen night in an inn, when they were both simply men, and not princes or even kings.

Almost.  He didn’t regret how they’d gotten _here_ , but it had been a hard journey, one that he didn’t want to revisit except in memory.

Besides, here and now was better.  This Laurent, he knew.  This Laurent, though still single-minded, could be swayed and distracted.

Damen hummed, thinking.  He wasn’t sure how intent Laurent was on this particular task, but—  “For all we know, they may already be.  The bridges get icy before the roads, you were the one who told me that, remember?”

“I remember.”

Damen frowned.  He’d hoped that would work, but it hadn’t, so it was time to try another tactic.  “Laurent.”  He gestured around them.  “Would you send your men on an errand in this weather?”

Laurent glanced at him impassively.  “They would go if I ordered it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Laurent’s lips tilted into something resembling a smile, his chin raising haughtily.  “Are you cold, Exalted?  I would think a great beast like you would be unbothered by such a thing.”

Damen huffed a sigh.  “I just think there are better ways to spend a snowstorm than traipsing through it for—”  He stopped abruptly.  “It’s not very strategic.”

They’d reached the stables now, so Damen couldn’t be sure if it was his words that caused Laurent to pause, or if it was to bask in the relative warmth, but he turned to Damen with a wry smile.  “Strategic.”  He said the word slowly, as if rolling it over in his mind.  “I see.”

It was a transparent attempt, and Damen didn’t expect it to work—didn’t think it had worked.  He opened his mouth to elaborate, his eyes on Laurent’s own pursed lips.

“I suppose you’re right.”  Damen’s mouth snapped shut, surprised.  Laurent usually needed more cajoling, but the fact that he was bending so quickly was testament to his own distaste for the weather.  Maybe.  Even now, Damen still didn’t know all of his motives.  And Laurent was already turning on his heel, following the furrow of snow they’d made between here and the keep, like he hadn’t just a moment ago been protesting the idea of staying.

“Insufferable,” Damen muttered under his breath.  He turned to close the stable door, waving off the stable hand.  It was to collect himself, because _really_ , Laurent.

So he didn’t see the white ball hurtling towards him, only felt it when it hit, sending cold, wet snow down his collar as it disintegrated.  Damen sputtered and whirled.

Laurent hadn’t put much distance between them yet, so Damen could see the sparkle in his eyes, a look he recognized.  It meant mischief, and he practically glowed with it, cheeks rosy as his breath misted in the air, and Damen would never get over how _beautiful_ he was.

But he could admire Laurent later.

“You’re a menace,” Damen growled, and it wasn’t until he bent to gather a handful of snow of his own that Laurent began to move away from him—but not fast enough.

There was something to be said about having the advantage of size over Laurent.  With a sword, Laurent could hold his own admirably, but he had yet to win.  In a match of speed, he could best Damen, but for this—

The snowball that Damen threw at Laurent was nearly twice the size of the one Laurent had sent at him.  Laurent dodged it easily, but Damen had expected that, and a moment later the second snowball splattered in the furs Laurent had secured around his neck.

Laurent scrambled to retaliate, a wicked smile on his face, eyes dancing.

Damen knocked it off with a well-aimed snowball, sending a shower of wet flakes into Laurent’s hair.

For a few minutes, the air was filled with projectiles, and Damen found satisfaction in the fact that more landed on Laurent than on him.  It was rare for Laurent to initiate something he couldn’t win, but maybe he’d thought they’d be evenly matched, that it was as simple to adapt to as the Okton.  (Maybe if they’d been on horseback, Laurent would have an advantage.)

Or maybe he didn’t care that he didn’t win, because Laurent was laughing breathlessly by the time Damen caught him from behind, smashing snow into his golden hair.

Laurent spun and shoved handfuls of snow at him—or attempted to.  Damen caught his hands easily.  “I win.”

“You brute,” Laurent hissed, but there was no bite to it, and his eyes were still dancing with mirth.  Laurent shivered, suddenly.  “It’s miserable out here.”

It surprised a laugh out of Damen.  “You finally admit it.”

Laurent tried to pull his wrists from Damen’s grasp, but Damen held fast.  “It was fine until someone decided to drown me in snow.”

Damen arched an eyebrow, an expression he’d learned to perfect after so much time with Laurent.  “I thought you’d be better at dodging.”

Laurent stopped testing Damen’s grip, and instead turned his momentum forward, into Damen’s space, darting in to press a teasing kiss on Damen’s mouth.  It surprised Damen enough to loosen his grip.  “You’re no better.”  He twisted away, sending a coy look back at Damen over his shoulder.

Damen took it as an invitation to give chase, and they both slipped through the snow for several moments, until Damen tumbled Laurent to the ground.

“That’s because you’re not supposed to dodge something you want,” Damen murmured, nuzzling into the furs at Laurent’s neck.

Laurent turned his head to nose at Damen’s hair.  “Are you accusing me of wanting something?”

Damen hummed, a noncommittal sound as his mouth found the skin of Laurent’s throat. He was rewarded with a hitch in Laurent’s breath.  “I’ve never presumed to know what you want.  You’ll have to tell me.”  Damen drew back enough to catch Laurent’s gaze, blue eyes dark with desire.

“First, I want to get out of the snow.”  Laurent licked his lips, “And then I’d like to warm up.”

There was no mistaking his meaning, and Damen smiled darkly.  “I think I can help with that.”

“That would be…adequate.”


End file.
